


What Big Eyes You Have

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Series: Fantastical Photos [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Dark, Fairy Tale Style, Fantasy, M/M, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 18:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6163090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Huntsman accompanies Red Riding Hood through the woods. But not all is as it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Big Eyes You Have

**Author's Note:**

  * For [languageismymistress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/languageismymistress/gifts).



> The first sentence is almost exactly that of Grimm's Little Red Riding Hood. I just wanted that to be made clear.
> 
> I debated for a while whether or not Len should be the woodsman or the wolf. Let's see how this goes.

ONCE UPON A TIME, IN A FAR-AWAY LAND, there lived a sweet young man who was beloved by every one who saw him. His dear mother loved him so much she did not know when to stop spoiling him. Before her tragic death, she made him a lovely red riding hood. To keep her memory with him, he wore this red riding hood everywhere he went, and so became known as Red Riding Hood.

One day, Red Riding Hood received a letter from his poor father, who lived in the woods. In this letter, his father told him that he was very ill and wished to see his beloved son. Red Riding Hood set off early the next morning, that he might reach his father at midday. He carried with him a basket full of meat, wine, and apple tarts, the last of which were his father's favorite sweet.

Red Riding Hood had been walking quite a ways into the woods, when he happened upon a huntsman who just finished placing his snares and was about to look for bigger game. This huntsman was very handsome, with eyes as blue as winter and skin white as snow.

"Good-day, Huntsman," bade Red Riding Hood with a genial smile.

The Huntsman nodded his thanks and replied in a softer, steady voice, "Good-day, Red Riding Hood. What brings you to these woods so early?"

"I am on my way to my father's house. He is ill and wishes to see me."

And while this Huntsman was not one to hold long conversations with those he did not consider friends, of which there were few, the longer he gazed upon Red Riding Hood's lovely face, the more he wished to stay near him. Holstering his gun, he said, "I know of this house. You have quite a distance to travel, and these woods are dangerous to the outsider. If you would allow me, Red Riding Hood, I will accompany you to your father's."

Red Riding Hood's smile grew radiant, warming the Huntsman's cold heart. "Why thank you, Huntsman! You are very kind."

The Huntsman did not bother to contradict him, for he wished Red Riding Hood to hold a good opinion of him. So he offered his arm, and off they went.

As they walked, Red Riding Hood talked of everything and nothing, the Huntsman listening with infatuated ears. He had never met someone who captured his affection so easily, and the notion both frightened and endeared him further to Red Riding Hood. As for Red Riding Hood, he enjoyed how attentive the Huntsman listened just as much as he basked in the cool tones of his voice. The farther and farther they walked, the closer they leaned toward each other, arms locking tighter together.

Halfway to Red Riding Hood's father's house, they stopped for a rest, sitting on a fallen tree along the edge of the path. The sun had risen, bathing the trees and flowers in golden light. The Huntsman found his breath stolen when he chanced to look upon Red Riding Hood in this light; the red of his cloak was accented, and his brown hair shined. But what was especially illuminated were his beautiful green eyes, large and kind.

"Oh, look, Huntsman!" exclaimed Red Riding Hood suddenly, startling the Huntsman from his reverie, "How wonderful those flowers look! I know my father would adore some."

The Huntsman's brow crinkled. "It's not wise to stray from the path, Red Riding Hood. Perhaps if we found other flowers along the way that are closer, you may have them."

But Red Riding Hood merely laughed and said, "Why should I be so cautious? I have you to protect me, don't I?"

Taken aback by this, the Huntsman found himself agreeing and following Red Riding Hood to the blanket of blossoms. Red Riding Hood knelt down and began picking various flowers of many colors and shapes, his quiet smile never wavering. In this position, his cloak billowed around him on the ground, surrounding him in red. It was here that the Huntsman could no longer contain himself; he knew he must find out Red Riding Hood's true name.

"Red Riding Hood," he said, savoring the moment those eyes looked up at him from under soft lashes, "may I ask...what is your name?"

And Red Riding Hood laughed again. "How silly we have been! Here we are, talking for the better part of two miles, and yet don't know each other's name!" returning to his task, he told the Huntsman, "My name is Bartholomew. But I prefer Barry, if you would be so kind. What of yourself, Huntsman? May I know the name of my protector?"

The Huntsman felt a small smile bloom across his own lips. "Leonard," he replied, "although I too prefer a shorter title. Call me Len, Barry."

Barry grinned, "Len it is. A pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine."

Barry's cheeks grew pink. "Come," he murmured, taking Len's hand, "there are more flowers this way."

Len gladly allowed himself to be lead deeper into the woods, enveloped in this enchanting youth's presence. However, before they could reach the next bed of flowers, a wolf crept out from the trees. In an instant, Len rushed to shield Barry, taking his gun in hand.

"What is your business here, Wolf?" he demanded in an icy voice, aiming his gun directly between the Wolf's eyes.

The Wolf regarded the couple with a steady gaze. "Do lay down your weapon, Huntsman," it said at last, tones resonant and deeper than any human's, "I have just eaten my breakfast, and merely wish to reach my home to rest."

Barry, as trusting as he was kind, laid a hand on Len's arm and gently tugged until it once more rested at Len's side. "We are terribly sorry, Wolf," he said. "We were on our way to pick more flowers. My dear father is ill, and I wish to cheer him with some colorful blossoms."

The Wolf asked, "Where does your father live, dear child?"

"Why do you wish to know?" Len snapped. Barry quietly chastised him, but he did not relent. "Tell this creature nothing, Red Riding Hood. It should not know your name, much less where to find you and your father." Glaring at the Wolf, "Who knows when it will grow hungry again?"

Remaining perfectly stoic, the Wolf politely replied, "I am simply making conversation with Red Riding Hood."

To show Len that he was not afraid of this Wolf, Barry stepped forward and said, "My father lives in the cottage a mile hence, near the heart of the woods."

Forgetting himself, Len hissed, " _Barry_!"

But the Wolf responded as if he did not hear, "Ah. I know of it. Your father is a brave man to live in such a dangerous place. How unfortunate that he is ill."

Sorrow touched Barry's smile. "Yes. But once I reach him with these gifts, I am sure he will recover. I'm afraid we have to get going, if we are to collect more flowers and reach his house by midday. Good-day, Wolf."

"Good-day, Red Riding Hood." And the Wolf lumbered off.

Len watched his retreat with suspicion. "You shouldn't have done that, Barry. We must reach your father's house posthaste."

Yet Barry continued walking towards the flowers. "Why are you so distrusting of wolves, Len? Even huntsmen know when a wolf is benign, as that one was."

Watching Barry begin adding to his bouquet, Len heaved a silent sigh. "My sister was murdered and eaten by a wolf," he confessed, "I have been hunting for that beast ever since, and vowed that day never to trust one of their kind again."

Barry's face filled with pain. "Oh, Len, I am so sorry," he murmured, once more taking Len's hand. "Forgive me. If I had known, I would never have engaged that wolf."

Len shook his head. "Most people don't know the story," he admitted, "it is not only wolves I don't trust. But, it's strange; Itrust _you_ , Barry, even though I have only met you this day."

To his infinite surprise, Barry brightened and kissed the back of his knuckles, replying in a voice filled with love, "And I you, Len. Sit by me; you deserve another rest after that ordeal."

The encounter with the Wolf was hardly an 'ordeal,' but Len joined Barry anyway. The red cloak brushed against him, soft and warm.

Meanwhile, the Wolf had indeed grown hungry again, for his breakfast consisted of a single hare. Remembering the tale of the ill father, he followed Red Riding Hood's directions and came upon the cottage soon enough. Once there, he knocked on the door. There was no reply; the father must be asleep.

 Because he was a clever Wolf, he shut the door behind him before charging into the man's bedroom. 

Red Riding Hood arrived shortly after, for he and Len realized that time had flown while they were picking flowers. Together, they hastened to the cottage, hands joining without their being conscious of it. Once they reached it, Barry turned and told Len to wait outside.

"My father is a kind man, but in his illness he may not wish to meet a stranger," he elaborated. "I will come out when he is ready to see you."

Len nodded. Barry kissed his knuckles one last time before hurrying into the cottage.

"Father?" he called, closing the door, "Are you here?"

"Yes, my son," called the Wolf, who had dressed in the father's dressing-gown and thrown a knitted blanket around his head. "Come closer. I have missed you so."

"I've missed you too," smiled Barry, "I hope you're hungry! I brought you food from the village."

"I am absolutely famished, Red Riding Hood."

However, when Barry pulled back the curtain surrounding his father's bed, he gave pause. "Why, father," he exclaimed, "what big ears you have!"

The Wolf grinned a wolfish grin. "All the better to hear you with, dear child."

 "What big hands you have!"

"The better to touch you with."

"And father, what big  _teeth_ you have!"

Salivating, the Wolf cried, "The better to  _eat you with_!"

Outside, where Len waited, the Huntsman heard Barry's terrified yell. White hot fear blazing in his body, Len sprinted into the cottage, shouting Barry's name.

He arrived to the disemboweled, headless corpse of the Wolf, with Red Riding Hood feasting on his raw flesh.

" _Barry_?" gasped Len, "What are you doing? What happened? Where is your father?"

Barry turned. His lips and eyes were as red as his cloak. "Why, my father died when I was a child," he grinned with bloody teeth, "I merely wished to lure the Wolf here, that I may satisfy my own hunger."

Len's widening eyes took in the sight of the once radiant young man. "Barry...what big ears you have."

Barry laughed, sweeping into an easy stance. He held out his hands, which were now a wolf's fur-covered claws.

"The better to hear you with, my love," he purred.

"What...big hands you have."

"The better to touch you with, my love." To demonstrate, Barry cupped Len's face.

His glowing red eyes gazed into Len's with nothing but hungry affection. Entranced, Len swayed towards him with the eagerness of a young lover.

"What big eyes you have," he murmured.

Barry leaned forward. "The better to see you with, my love."

He kissed Len, blood dripping from their joined lips. The Huntsman, who had been reaching for his gun, slackened his grip on the weapon in favor of pulling Barry closer against him.

When they parted, Red Riding Hood smiled a gruesome smile, bits of flesh sticking in his sharp teeth.

"You have strayed from the path with me already, Len," he whispered, "come and feast with me."

He picked up a piece of the Wolf's innards and pressed it to his Huntsman's lips.

Len took a bite.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
